A monster
by Laelwen
Summary: And all he could think of as he gripped the casket was that he was a monster. Movieverse.


**A/N** Needless to say, I do not own Thor.

**Summary**: My take on Loki's thoughts as he picked up the ice casket.

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><p><strong>A Monster<strong>

A monster. That's what he was. A monster.

Loki stared at his hands, green eyes wide and overbright with pain and sickening disgust. The horrible, condemning blue crept up his arms. Like some hideous growth it choked away the aristocratic pallor of his skin, even as it had done on Jotunheim when he had touched that frost giant.

And how he hated the creature. It was irrational perhaps. Unfair of him to blame it for his condition. His condition. He fought a wild urge to laugh. Like he had been infected by his assailant. Like he was carrying a disease. Only, he was. Wasn't he? It was just that he had always been carrying it. He was the creature of his own nightmares.

He remembered, as a child, waking up one night from a dream. Such a stupid, stupid dream about running and running from his father because he had stolen his helmet. Only he wasn't fast enough. And then he was caught and was being dragged away, calling out that he was sorry, and then a blue giant had appeared and stabbed at him with Sif's sword. Silly really. He knew now that they could use ice-weapons. But back then... He had kicked away his blankets onto the floor and he remembered lying there, cold, and shivering the entire night because he was afraid if he got up the ice-giants would get him. He wondered now how much had been cold and how much had been fear.

He could feel the blueness spreading, a tingling chill creeping all over his body. He wondered if his eyes were even green anymore. He suspected not. Half of him was glad there were no mirrors. The other, less sane, half, wanted to hurt something. Anything. Because he was a monster. And maybe, just maybe, that would make the pain he felt go away.

And then Odin was there. His... no not any more. He wasn't worthy of the King's love. Not worthy to be his child. But why? Why had he been taken? He should have been left to die; he'd have left himself to die. _This_ was why Thor had been so favoured as a child. Not because of anything he had done but because of what he was.

He was screaming at the Allfather now, demanding answers to which he was not prepared to listen. Because despite the honeyed words of affection bubbling up from that wrinkled mouth he knew the truth. He'd have been more convinced if Odin had treated them as equals as a child. But his magic had always been dismissed as mere trickery. His so called 'silver-tongue' yet another opportunity for derision. Until it was needed, of course, and then they were kind enough for a little while. But even then he was not admired; tolerated, perhaps, because he was a prince but ultimately despised because of his dishonesty.

A small part of him registered the utter weariness on his father's face. The pained resignation. But he ignored it. He had been a tool. Useful for now, perhaps, but to be set aside when it suited the King to do so. And why else would he have been passed over for the kingship to which he was so imminently more suited than Thor?

He became aware the Allfather was sinking onto the stairs. He continued ranting. He should have seen the signs, really, but the anger, betrayal and humiliation which swirled within him were too strong. He _needed_ to say these things or else they would have choked him. And then his father had collapsed.

Loki knelt down next to him, suddenly feeling nauseated. On top of all else, had he killed his father? He tentatively stretched a hand out, and then retracted it. What if it did to Odin what that creature had done to Volstagg? He stared at his trembling hand, still hovering over his father, and was disgusted with it. How could it continue to look so... normal? As it ever had?

He was calling for the guards then, screaming for help but his voice was hoarse from his shouting. They ran in within seconds. A detached part of him wondered how much of the conversation they had overheard.

And as his father was carried up to his chambers, Loki made a vow to himself, still kneeling on the cold, hard stairs. He would prove himself to his father. Despite his true nature he _would_ show himself to be the equal of Thor.


End file.
